


Bargain at the Price

by smilebackwards



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M, basically i accidentally remixed 4x04 Girls' Night sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-15 16:14:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19299250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smilebackwards/pseuds/smilebackwards
Summary: Patrick makes a change at the store. David does not approve.





	Bargain at the Price

**Author's Note:**

> For the fandomweekly prompt Stages Of Grief

“Oh my God,” David says, entering the store and seeing the ketchup on the center display island. Behind him the bell on the door chimes quietly. He looks up at Patrick, sitting peacefully behind the register despite the travesty in front of them. “What the hell is going on? I just went through the four stages of grief looking at this.”

Patrick smiles at him. “There are traditionally five stages of grief, David.” 

Patrick is very precise. David likes that about him. He does not, however, like what Patrick has allowed to happen in their store.

“Yes. And I only went through four of them,” David says, pinching his fingers together. “Because I do _not_ accept this.”

“Three people have asked me for ketchup today, David,” Patrick says. “It’s probably a good idea to let people know we sell it.”

“Mmhmm,” David hums, unconvinced. “It’s just that it’s extremely red.” The store aesthetic is sand and stone. Red is outside the spectrum. It belongs in the back with the other shameful things people claim to need, like plungers and non-artisanal cheese. There are speakeasy packages of Kraft in the corner of the back refrigerator that Patrick thinks he’s successfully hidden from David. _Kraft._

“Well, I guess we could step back a stage to bargaining,” Patrick says. He looks very innocent with his fresh farm boy face and his mid-range denim jeans but he has that glint in his eye like when he’d told David, all confidence, that he’d get the grant money. Patrick had gotten the money.

David waits.

“I would be willing to move the ketchup back into the back,” Patrick says, “in exchange for you picking up the new stock of lavender soap from Mr. Tate. Which you were supposed to do. Yesterday.”

David grimaces. He’s been putting that off. Mr. Tate may make gorgeous smelling soap, but he doesn’t seem inclined to use any of it for himself. “Okay,” David says, “but are you sure you wouldn’t rather have, like, a blow job.” He’d be willing to go up to a quickie in the bathroom. David knows how to broker a deal to his benefit.

David,” Patrick says. He sounds amused; David is always so funny to him. But in a kind way. Patrick doesn’t laugh at him. Not the way David’s New York friends had sometimes laughed, sharp and vicious and occasionally on camera.

Patrick’s cheeks have gone a very becoming light pink; it fits into David’s sand and stone aesthetic nicely. David doesn’t know how Patrick can still be scandalized. They’ve been dating for over a year. It’s cute. David’s going to give him that blow job later anyway. David is great at bargaining, just not with Patrick. He wants to give Patrick everything he wants.

Patrick comes around the register and kisses him. He likes to give David the things David wants too. Their hands brush as they pack up the ketchup. Patrick’s hands are very soft. He’s started using the moisturizer David suggested. David almost doesn’t want to finish packing away the ketchup. Almost.

Patrick puts the last bottle in the box and carries it to the back. David’s hands feel strangely bereft.

When Patrick comes back onto the floor, he takes David’s hands in his and David remembers: he doesn’t need an excuse. He can hold Patrick’s hand whenever he likes. 

“Cafe for dinner tonight?” Patrick asks.

“Yes,” David says. Patrick will probably hook his foot absently behind David’s ankle beneath the table. David will put his hand on the table and Patrick will take it. They’ll eat one handed; that’s how disgusting they are. David loves it. 

“I’m going to go pick up the soap now,” David says. He’d still rather put it off, but Patrick is smiling at him, and really, it’s a bargain at the price.


End file.
